Smart, Sexy and Secretive (27 page)

Heat creeps up my face.

Emily’s dad shoves his hands into his
pockets and rocks back on his heels. He nods at me, and I think he
grunts. I wouldn’t know if any sound came out of his mouth, but I
can tell he just made a noise. One that would dismiss me if I could
hear it.

I stick my hand out toward him. “Mr.
Madison,” I say.

Begrudgingly, he reaches for my hand
and takes it in a firm grip. I force myself not to squeeze back
when he tightens his grip in warning. Instead, I take it. I let him
be in control because he’s her father for fuck’s sake. I don’t like
it, but I take it.

“
Logan came to have
breakfast with us,” Emily rushes to say. She puts her hands on top
of ours and pries her father’s fingers back. He lets her. I shake
the pain out of my hand when he releases it.

He takes in the crease still etched on
her cheek and her lack of makeup. “I’m certain he did,” her father
says.

Her mother drops bags of pastries,
bagels, and assorted other breakfast foods on the table. Emily
starts to unpack the bags, bouncing up on her toes as she does.
She’s padding around in socks, and I can’t help but remember that
one of my own socks is missing. I walk into the living room where I
see it sticking out of one of the couch cushions. I pocket it
quickly, shoving it in the pocket of my hoodie. Her mother follows
me into the room and grins at me, then shakes her finger. “You’re
not leaving are you?”

Not on your life. “No, Mrs. Madison,” I
say. “I was just looking for something.”

She narrows her eyes. “Did you find
it?” She’s asking me about more than just my missing sock, I
think.

I cough into my closed fist to clear my
throat, which suddenly has a lump in it. I don’t know why. “Yes,
ma’am.”

She arches an eyebrow at me, prompting
me to continue.

“
I have everything I need
now that Emily’s back.” I look her in the eye.

“
Stay strong,” she says.
Then she winks at me. She startles and looks toward the
door.

Emily comes from around the corner, her
eyes narrowed. Her dad stands behind her smirking. Someone must
have knocked on the door. She rushes to it, looks through the
peephole, and steps back, muttering to herself. I can’t quite read
her lips.

Emily opens the door, and a man brushes
past her. He’s wearing a button-down shirt, a tie, and kicks that
cost more than my monthly rent. He puts down his suitcase, shakes
hands with Mr. Madison, and turns to Emily. He starts toward her,
his arms outstretched. I step forward to get between them, but Mrs.
Madison grabs my arm. “Don’t,” she warns. “This will work itself
out.”

Emily lets him pull her into an
embrace, but she doesn’t hug him back. She cringes instead. This
warms my heart.

She looks over at me, and I see
something I don’t quite understand in her gaze. Is it pity? For me?
Is she afraid I can’t compete with this man? Who the hell is he,
anyway?

I draw a circle around my
lips, asking her who he is without anyone seeing me. She crooks her
index finger into the sign for the letter
x
. That’s her ex?
Seriously?

Emily’s past has just walked in the
door. And if the look on his face is any indication, he no longer
wants to be in the past. He wants more.

I look at her father, who’s smirking at
me with his arms folded in front of his chest. He doesn’t want the
asshat to be in the past either.

Fine. I’ll knock his ass into the
middle of next week. That’s the only way he’ll ever be a part of
her future.

I take a step forward flexing my
fingers as I go. He’s as big as I am, but I’d be willing to bet his
jaw is made of candy, just like his ass.

Emily

This is not good. Not good
at all. Trip isn’t supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be in LA.
But he’s
here
.

He walks toward me as though we’re old
friends. As though just a few months ago he didn’t call me stupid,
among a few other choice words. As though I hadn’t left him
standing at the altar before my last trip to New York, when I met
Logan. As though I would accept the embrace he tries to offer to
me.

He hugs me, pulling me way too close to
him. I push against his chest, harder and harder until he has to
let me go. Logan’s on his away across the room. I shove Trip back
and slide my hand into the crook of Logan’s arm. I brush my hair
back from my face. “What are you doing here, Trip?” I grit
out.

Logan flexes his fingertips, squeezing
them into a fist over and over. He looks like he could choke the
life out of Trip with his bare hands.

Logan looks at my dad, his eyes open in
mock disbelief. “You didn’t tell her, Mr. Madison?”

“
Hadn’t had a chance yet,”
Dad says, but he’s smiling. “Guess now’s as good a time as any.” He
motions for Trip to continue.

“
Your dad is moving me out
here temporarily. He didn’t like the idea of you being in the city
all alone.” Trip looks at my dad as though he needs reassurance.
Dad nods. Trip grins and acts like he’s going to hug me again, but
Logan places a hand on his chest. Trip looks down his nose at
Logan, like he just smelled something bad. “Who the hell are you?”
he asks. He takes in the way that I’m holding onto Logan’s arm with
all my might, and he drops his jaw for a second. He lets out a
quivery breath. “This is him?” he asks the room. “This is the guy?”
Then he laughs out loud.

Logan’s arm flexes beneath
my hand. I squeeze it tightly, digging my fingernails into his skin
to get his attention. He looks at me, finally, and I stare directly
into his eyes and mouth the words
I love
you
.

He nods ever so slightly, and the
tension in his body eases a bit.

“
So you’re moving to New
York?” I ask Trip.

He looks at my father, who nods. “Isn’t
it great?” he gushes. “Mr. Madison wants me to head up the New York
office.”

I look at my dad, watching his face.
“We have a New York office?”

He smiles. “We do now.”

“
Congratulate me, Em!” Trip
cries. “Aren’t you even the tiniest bit happy to see me?” He’s
practically giddy, and it’s rather nauseating.

“
Oh, Ralph,” my mother
breathes as she finally realizes what’s happening. “You didn’t.”
She buries her face in her hands and groans. She glances up at me.
“I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” She looks at Logan with an apology
on her face.

I have a feeling things are about to
get worse. My gut clenches in anticipation, and my pulse starts to
hammer.

“
Why don’t we have a seat?”
Dad says. He points toward the couch for my mom, and Trip falls
into a chair across the room. I shove Logan in the hip until he
drops into a chair, too, and I sit down on the edge of it. He wraps
his arm around my bottom, his hand settling on my hip. Both my dad
and Trip frown when they see it. I cover his hand with mine to hold
him there.

“
What’s going on, Dad?” I
ask. I look at Trip. He’s grinning. “Why are you here,
Trip?”

Trip stands up quickly and claps his
hands together. “I’m your new roomie!” he cries.

Logan’s hand tightens on my waist, and
I look down at him, holding up one finger to ask him for patience.
“I don’t have a roommate,” I say. “Nor do I want one.”

“
I can’t believe you did
this, Ralph,” my mother says. She jumps to her feet. “I can’t
believe you did this without talking to me.”

The room quiets, my mom’s heels
clicking against the floor as she paces the only sound in the
room.

“
I don’t want you to be in
the city all alone,” Dad says to me. He looks much too pleased with
himself. “And then we realized Trip would be coming to New York,
and we thought it would help both of you out. You have two bedrooms
after all. And now you won’t have to be alone.”

“
I wasn’t going to be
alone,” I start. But Logan squeezes my hip. I stop
talking.

My dad’s brow furrows. “What exactly do
you mean, Emily?” he asks.

“
I—” I stop, not knowing how
to continue. “I—” I close my mouth again. “Never mind,” I
mutter.

“
New York is a dangerous
place, Em,” Trip says. He’s still smiling. Like a used car
salesman. Or a shark, right before it takes a big bite out of an
unsuspecting swimmer. He looks at Logan as though he’s confirmation
of the danger in the city. “You never know what kind of people you
might run into.”

I roll my eyes toward the ceiling and
count to ten.

Logan is quiet. A little too quiet.
He’s strung tighter than my guitar strings. “You okay?” I ask. I
sign while I talk.

Trip smacks himself in the forehead
with his open palm. “Oh my God,” he cries. “I completely forgot
about your impairment!” He says the next few words, punctuating
each one with a pause. “Do. You. Need. For. Us. To. Talk.
Slowly?”

“
I can keep up,” Logan says.
“But thank you for the offer.”

“
Just. Let. Us. Know. If.
We. Need. To. Talk. Slower.” Trip smiles, and I want to punch him
in the face.

Logan lifts his head, a smile I know he
doesn’t feel tilting the corners of his lips. “Thanks.”

“
Dad,” I begin. “Trip can’t
stay here.”

Dad looks at Trip, and the mock
confusion on each of their faces mirrors the other. “Why not?” Trip
asks.

Dad points toward the open bedroom
door. “You have two bedrooms. And plenty of space.” He narrows his
eyes at me. “You, yourself, told me that you two were still friends
when you came home. Is that not the case?”

He’s playing dumb. I know my
father. And I know when he does and does not understand something.
He understands all too well. “Trip’s my
ex
-boyfriend, Dad. You don’t think
that will be a little bit awkward?”

Dad waves a breezy hand in the air. “It
doesn’t have to be. You two can come and go as you please. And I’ll
feel better about being on the other side of the country if he’s
here with you.”

“
He can’t stay here.” I’m
putting my foot down. I won’t allow this to happen. “I’ll leave,
Dad. I swear to God, if you try to make me do this, I’ll disappear
again.”

Dad sits back, looking smug. “You know,
I got a call from Matt’s doctor the other day.” Dad stares direct
at Logan. “They said your brother is ready for phase two of the
treatment. And they asked if I would be providing the
funds.”

Logan’s arm falls from around my waist,
and he lumbers to his feet very slowly. He looks down at me and
presses a finger to my lips. His finger trembles. “Mr. Madison,” he
says. He nods at my dad, and then at my mom. “Mrs. Madison. It was
wonderful to meet you. I will say good-bye now.” He starts toward
the door. “And as far as the treatment is concerned, if Emily’s
freedom is the price, you can take your money and shove it up your
ass.” He stops at the door. I’m latched onto his arm like a Velcro
monkey.

“
Please don’t walk out,” I
beg. “Not like this. I can fix this.”

He peels me off of his arm. “I know you
can.” He kisses my forehead, his lips lingering there as he
breathes in deeply, his eyes closed. Then he pushes me back from
him. “I need to go,” he says. His voice is hoarse. “I’ll talk to
you later.”

“
I’m going to deal with
this, and then I’ll come find you. I promise.”

He nods. Then he steps out
the door and closes it softly behind him. There’s a
thud
on the other side of
the wall and I know Logan waited until he got outside to smash
something.

“
Good riddance,” Trip says,
brushing his hands together like he’s wiping dust from
them.

Logan

I plump a woman’s breast in my hand,
imagining how the tattoo she wants across the top of it will sag in
twenty years. “I don’t think this is the best place,” I say. I’m
wearing gloves, and I’m behind the curtain at the back of the shop,
which is where all the private tattoos are done. I tried to talk
Paul, my oldest brother, into doing this one, but he didn’t have
time. His daughter, Hayley, is with a sitter, and he has to go and
pick her up. I volunteered to go instead, but he laughed, shook his
head, and walked out.

I plump the woman’s breast again. I
made her put pasties over her nipples before I would even touch
her. So it’s not like this is a sexual thing. For me. It is for
her, apparently since she reaches for my belt buckle, and I brush
her hands away, lifting my knee to block her. I don’t need this. I
pass her shirt to her. “Put this on, please.”

Her lower lip juts out in an expression
she probably thinks is sexy. I just think it’s pathetic. “You used
to be so much more fun,” she pouts.

Yeah, back then I wasn’t in love with a
woman I couldn’t have.

I’m still smarting over her father’s
plan to move Trip in with her. The asshole hadn’t even introduced
himself to me. All he did was patronize me as though I’m
stupid.